MEMORIAL DAY

Today I walked a cemetery, trod between the rows,
While flags rippled in the breeze, read names I didn’t
know,
Some the First, some the Second, some from that
Asian hell
And the rows went on forever as far as I could tell…
I thought about the meaning of all those countless
deaths,
Of blood and fear and suffering and painful drawn last
breaths,
Of families left behind to wait , a carefully folded flag
As their loved ones make the trip back home in a
zipped up
body bag…
What compels these men to fight in wars that make no
sense?
To risk life and limb in foreign lands awash in
violence?
To trade all that they love in life for a chattering,
smoking gun,
A posthumous medal, an IED, insurgents on the run?
The few, the proud, the valiant, the boy you knew next
door,
Our nation’s youth expended in a politician’s war,
For love of country, honour, for all that we hold true,
For those that they don’t even know, for me, for us, for
you…
Some wear scars we cannot see, those that make it
back,
Some horribly disfigured from a suicide attack,
And on this day, to honour them, we drink, we eat and
play,
All they get in tribute is one lousy, stinking day.
Every single day should be memorial
We should televise every single funeral
Every name should be forever burned into our minds
So these warriors are remembered until the end of
time.

THANK YOU VETERANS.
 

By Johnny Whitebread

Kansas U.S.A
POETRY 3